it has to be you, love, that i've been dreaming of
by champion lyra
Summary: Ten years after being saved by Ryoken, Yusaku encounters him again... As the lead singer to a rock band. —DataStormShipping, RyokenYusaku.


**Notes**

Happy birthday to me! I can't believe I'm 23, lmao. My back hurts too much to be this young. Anyways! Here's my birthday present to myself.

I started this back in literally January after seeing some art of Ryoken with a guitar on twitter, wrote like ~700 words or so, then put it off as I worked on other things. Last week I was looking for some of my unfinished things to try and finish up, and I was struck with inspiration and now here we are! 7,000 words later, this has far more backstory then was ever necessary for this AU, but oh well what else is new with me. Hope y'all enjoy anyways!

**MILD TRIGGER WARNING: **I don't go into too much detail, but this does mention a shooting. The violence is honestly less then canon-typical, and it's barely brought up, but I know that can be a sensitive subject.

* * *

Shaking, Yusaku looked all around him, confusion shining through on his face. Where were his parents, he wondered? Where was… anyone, really, he thought, looking around. He was all alone.

Something in his little head sparked at that, a memory - his mother once told him, he remembered, that if they ever got separated to stay exactly where he was, and she would find him. His body was already rigid, so Yusaku stood his ground, parking himself in the middle of the hallway. This was the best place for his parents to find him, he reminded himself, despite how much his insides were screaming at him to _run_.

And so he waited, and waited, and waited some more. Nobody came - nobody at all. He could vaguely make out sounds from down the hall, the same sounds that made his every fiber want to get out of there, but he refused to move. The fear he had… well, that was okay, he kept trying to convince himself as he shook. His legs were getting tired, though. And, okay, maybe he was a little more than just _scared_. The screaming from the other hallways hurt his ears.

"Hey," a voice called from behind him, and Yusaku whipped around immediately despite not recognizing it. "Are you okay?" The voice asked, and Yusaku stared blankly. It was a kid like him, maybe a few years older, with mostly snow-white hair. Yusaku tried to open his mouth to reply, but found he couldn't.

The boy took a few quiet steps closer, holding a hand out tentatively. "Did you lose your parents?" This time, Yusaku nodded, feeling the familiar prick of tears at the corners of his eyes.

"I- they told me to stay here, and -" Yusaku scrunched his eyes shut. There was screaming, and he was all alone. He waited here for so long, and they didn't come back, and now he didn't know if they _would_.

The boy lowered his hand back to his side, curling it into a fist. "Okay, it's -" He cut himself off, trying again a bit slower this time. "Think of three things, okay? Let's do it together. One: think of something to go home to. Can you do that?"

Doing his best, Yusaku thought of the cleaning robot his parents promised him he could try and program. He'd been waiting for it for months and months, and now that summer had started, he had the whole summer to learn how it worked. "Roboppy," he said aloud, and the boy nodded next to him. He still shook as he thought about it, but it was something; it was a start.

"Good. Two: think of something you want to do. Like, I want to play the piano when I get home."

It was a struggle not to say Roboppy again, as it had been the only thing he'd thought about that wasn't the right then and now since everything had started. Yusaku scrunched his eyes again, and he could hear the other boy's breathing from next to him. Trying his best to match his breaths to his, Yusaku opened his eyes again.

"I want to go back to school," he finally settled on, looking down at his shoes. He liked school, really - there was a lot of kids there, and he got to work with computers a lot. In fact, his teachers had been so impressed with his projects last year, they'd moved him into a special class for the next year. He was looking forward to it.

Smiling kindly, the boy nodded. "Yeah, that's it. One more, okay? Three: think of someone you want to see again."

Unsurprisingly, his parents were the first to flash into his mind. They had pushed him down this hallway as they got lost in the crowd once the loud noises started, and he still wasn't sure why or what, exactly, had happened. "My mom and dad," Yusaku whispered.

The smile on the other boy's face dropped, his hands curling into tight fists once again. "If you can think of three things, you'll be okay," he said after a moment, turning away from the boy. "Keep thinking of three different things as we walk, okay?"

Digging his heels into the ground despite not moving yet, Yusaku shook his head furiously. "No! My mom said-"

The boy clamped his hand over his mouth at the speed of light. "You've got to be quiet," he said, eyes looking behind Yusaku for what, he didn't know. "And I know what your mom said, but please trust me. She wants you to walk with me, okay?"

Part of Yusaku knew the other boy didn't _really _know his mother, but the sudden urgency in his tone, with the sounds from the hallway getting closer and closer…

Forcing down a gulp, Yusaku nodded. The other boy's hand moved from his mouth to his hand, and with a gentle tug, they started walking down the hallway to the brightly lit exit sign. His body hurt from standing still for so long, and his legs ached as they walked - how long had it been, he wondered? He wasn't sure. There was no clock, and he didn't have a phone yet. Without realizing it, his grip on the boy's hand grew tighter, and the other boy looked back to give him another smile.

"It's okay," he repeated. "It's okay."

* * *

It had not, ever, been okay, after that day.

Truth be told, Yusaku had barely remembered what had happened after he was lead out of the mall by the boy with the white hair. The rest of the day was a blur, lost forever to his young mind - but maybe that was for the best.

The incident was nationally known, after all. The biggest mass murder in Den City's history.

Yusaku couldn't bring himself to look into it at first, as he was passed around from foster home to foster home, until he was finally brought in by the Kusanagis. Primarily, Shoichi, who took care of his younger brother Jin as well.

Jin, too, had survived that day. Their parents had not.

Unlike Yusaku, however, Jin didn't have a boy come to rescue him. After finding that out, Yusaku forced himself to look into the incident, and the more he did, the more questions he had. The shooter had killed himself, after slaughtering nearly 100 people in the mall. There was never a motive released publically, news agencies claimed. If the police had ever found one, they refused to tell.

Pictures of the victims weren't hard to find - there were dozens of memorials held all over the country, apparently. It was the first he'd heard of it; the hospital he had been placed at had kept it from him, and when he was younger, it was hard to even think about the tragedy he had so narrowly escaped.

The boy who had rescued him was not one among the victims, and for that, Yusaku thanked every higher being that had ever been thought up.

However, no matter how hard he relied on the mantra he had been taught by that boy, Yusaku knew the truth about himself. There was no coming back from something like this. He was lucky, in that he'd found the Kusanagi brothers, who were willing to put up with him. But all his excitement about going back to school, making friends, building more robots…

Everything had died with his parents, that day. The only thing left of him was an empty shell of a person; masquerading as a living being.

* * *

Nothing much had changed in the last few years. Sometimes, Yusaku even questioned why he bothered getting up in the mornings. Some days, he simply _didn't _bother. It was too much of a hassle, too much effort for not enough gain. He was tired, and he hated being around other people. They didn't understand. Being in crowds, where he was in an enclosed space… it terrified him, now. Sure, he was better off than Jin, his adoptive brother, but he wasn't _normal_. He wondered whether he ever would be, or not.

The only thing, most days, that kept him going was that young boy he'd met that fateful day. Often, Yusaku wondered that if not for him, would he even still be there? He probably would've been killed like most others who were in the mall that day.

So clearly, he remembers the panic the little boy had when he urged Yusaku to follow after him. Had he known that the madman had been making his way towards them? Probably. It was the only logical conclusion, anyways, Yusaku had realized, through all the nights he'd spent dissecting that encounter.

The speech he'd told Yusaku had become something of a daily mantra. _Three reasons to get out of bed. Three reasons to finish the school day. Three reasons to make dinner tonight_. It was what he relied on, now, to make his way through life. It'd gotten maybe a little better as he grew, finding a pattern in his own madness and inability to function normally, but not by much.

Sure, he'd made some changes, he supposed. He talked to Takeru on a semi regular basis - a student from his school who, like Yusaku, had survived the incident a decade ago. They weren't close, not really, but they ate lunch together nearly every day and Takeru would talk to him about personal things.

Yusaku never really contributed much to these conversations, but Takeru knew the basics of his life: a teenager who, like him, had managed to survive that incident but had lost his family to it. It wasn't much, but Yusaku supposed it was a start. At least, Kusanagi was happy with the small change.

Takeru even had stated that they were friends, and though Yusaku felt like he must've been the worst friend in the world, the other boy continued to seek him out every single day and genuinely seemed to enjoy his company. He wasn't sure _why_, wasn't really sure he'd ever know why, but it was something.

Still, though, time was frozen around him. The days passed and the seasons changed, but nothing ever really became different. Even if the things around him moved, Yusaku himself was still stuck, chained to a past that he couldn't let go of.

He wondered if that itself would ever change.

* * *

"Yusaku? You okay?" Takeru asked, looking at his friend in bewilderment. The normally stoic, notoriously bored teenager stared at Takeru's phone, completely and totally fixated.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and then down. Yusaku's mouth had never felt this dry in his entire life, he thought. Swallowing was painful. "What's the name of the band playing?" He asked instead of answering, forcing the words to come up through his throat.

There was no way it was any different - that was his Voice, for sure. Yusaku's mind flashed for a moment; pictures of that young, white haired boy coaxing him through calming down on that horrific day. He almost couldn't believe it. It had been ten years since he had heard it, but Yusaku knew in his heart it was the same person. Part of him knew that he would recognize it anywhere, anytime.

Vaguely, he wondered what that said about him. He decided it didn't matter.

"Oh!" Takeru lit up at the question. "They're called the Knights of Hanoi. They're Aoi's favorite band! I can't believe you haven't heard of them," Takeru said, laughing a little bit. "Do you like them?"

A little light went off in his head at Takeru's explanation. Not that he'd ever paid much attention to what Takeru's girlfriend liked, since, like him, she was quiet and didn't speak much, but he somewhat recalled her wearing shirts with that name on it a few times when the three of them went out on Sundays. Yusaku felt a bit stupid, then - his special person had been right under his nose the whole time, and he didn't even know it.

Takeru didn't usually play music while they ate lunch, but today the roof was quiet enough he could get away with it. Yusaku hadn't minded in the slightest, just content to be outside and away from other people for the lunch break, until that familiar voice filled his ears.

"What are you doing after class?" Yusaku asked, again not answering Takeru's question. The boy didn't seem bothered at all, though; already completely used to Yusaku's mannerisms.

They had only met earlier that year, when he moved into Den City from some small countryside town with an abysmal population, but the two had found they'd clicked almost instantly. Takeru, too, had escaped out of that tragedy alive - without his parents, as well. Moving back to Den City was apparently part of his recovery, according to Takeru.

"I'm totally free today," Takeru told him with a grin. "Aoi's got her vocal lessons today."

Yusaku had no idea how Takeru kept up with both his and his girlfriend's schedule so well, yet couldn't get more than a barely passing grade in almost every single class, barring physical education. "Let's go downtown," Yusaku said, ignoring the surprise on his friend's face. "I want to grab their CD."

Pausing to put away his lunch, Takeru turned back to Yusaku quickly with confusion in his eyes. "You know Aoi would forward them to you, right? Nobody really buys CDs anymore, anyways, so we don't have to go downtown if you don't want to."

Both of those things were absolutely true; Yusaku didn't disagree. He _hated _being in a place with that many people. Too many crowds, not enough exits… Takeru may have been okay with it - their circumstances in the incident were very, very different - but Yusaku had trouble, even now. The only reason he went to school most days was because he and Kusanagi had spent hours and hours pouring over the security info of the school, the layout, finding each and every possible exit…

But this was his _voice_. This wasn't just some noise that Yusaku happened to find pleasing to listen to. This was the person who had not only saved him, but had kept him sane all these years.

"One," Yusaku started, holding up a finger, "I don't want to trouble your girlfriend with that when I'm perfectly capable of buying their music myself. Two: you said she had vocal lessons anyways, and I'd like to listen to them sooner. And three," he continued, watching Takeru roll his eyes at his odd verbal habit, "they're good, so I'd like to support them."

"Hey, if you're sure," Takeru said, shrugging. "I'll meet you at the gate after class then! We can grab you a cheap MP3 player, and if they have the CDs, those too. I'm not sure if they sell those anymore, though. Maybe Aoi will know." He scratched his head, lost in thought about it.

Giving his friend a rare smile, Yusaku nodded. His heart was still pounding, thinking of the fact that he'd finally, _finally_ learn more about the boy who had saved him from certain death. The boy who had woken him from his nightmares every night since it'd happened.

"Thanks, Takeru."

* * *

It hadn't taken long at all for Yusaku to become absolutely obsessed with the Knights of Hanoi. He'd practically binged every video they'd ever been in, read every article he could find on them in the span of a little less than a month.

Aoi, who had once just been _Takeru's quiet girlfriend _in his mind, was suddenly talking to him a lot more, and he found himself engaged. When she'd show up at lunch with a new magazine in hand, or a different DVD that contained some interview from a special release of an album, Yusaku found himself eating it up.

It wasn't like him to be a social participant, but he found when it came to the Knights, he had no problems voicing his thoughts or even listening to Aoi's opinions or feelings. He was so used to not caring about those around him that it almost set him on edge once he realized what was happening, but then he'd just get sucked right back into conversation.

He still didn't talk much, really. He still only said what he felt needed to be said, and in the same blunt tone of voice that he always had, but even Kusanagi had noticed the difference. About two months after he first got into the Knights of Hanoi, the older Kusanagi had surprised him with a nice poster to hang in his small, barren room.

It was the only decoration he had in it, but Yusaku was okay with that. Something about it felt nice, despite his general distaste for decorating and clutter.

* * *

"Yusaku," Aoi began, startling him only slightly. It had been a quiet afternoon up on the school's roof; just the three of them hanging out. It was getting a bit too cold for most of the other students to want to fight for lunch space up there, which was all the better for Yusaku. "The Knights are playing in two weeks in Den City."

Instantly, he found himself sitting up and eyes focusing in on the phone screen she'd moved in front of him. It apparently had been an extra stop added to their tour, since they were just finishing up over in Domino City the next week. That was supposed to be the final show of their current tour, but due to fan demand they'd added one more date to Den City.

Inside his chest, Yusaku's heart started pounding, though he thought that was ridiculous. Sure, it was a chance - a real, tangible chance - to see the boy who had saved him again _in person _for the first time in a decade, but still. Seeing him on stage was certainly not meeting up with him.

"How much are tickets?" He found himself asking anyways, subconsciously moving himself closer to Aoi. From her side, he could see Takeru laughing into his hand at his reaction.

Pulling up the purchase page, Aoi's lips twisted into a frown. "I mean, a bit pricy," she told him honestly, "but I'm sure Akira would pay for all of ours if I asked. My birthday isn't that far off, anyways."

Takeru laughed again as he leaned his head into her shoulder. "Aoi, your birthday is in two months. That's not exactly close."

Yusaku rolled his eyes. He knew exactly why she'd said that - it was to try and make him feel better about her paying for their tickets. She and her brother were well off, sure, but that didn't mean the older Zaizen should have to pay for _his_ stuff, too.

Inwardly, though, Yusaku was torn. This was his chance to see Ryoken again, for the first time since they'd met as children. There were few things in this world he disliked more than being treated like a charity case, but the thought of passing up the Knights of Hanoi concert was most definitely worse in a lot of ways.

"How about this," Aoi tried again, other hand moving on its own to push itself into Takeru's hair, "I pay for half of your ticket, and you can pay me back the rest whenever you're able to."

Since they'd gotten to know each other a bit more, Aoi had quickly caught on to his dislike of her paying for his things. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but from the few times Takeru had mentioned it, it was something Aoi appreciated. To hear her so willing to pay for these meant that it was something that meant a lot to her, Yusaku knew, and he also knew he would be a fool to decline.

He'd glanced at the ticket page when Aoi had been holding it out to look. They were _not _cheap, by any stretch of the imagination.

With a deep sigh, Yusaku knew he'd been beat. "Fine," he agreed, and ignored the way Takeru cheered at his admission.

* * *

Akira, Aoi's older brother, had dropped them off at the venue, and Yusaku tried to not let his panic set in. It was _huge_, for one thing, but the amount of people in the building…

"Relax," Takeru said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "We went through the website together, remember? All the exits are clearly labeled."

Coming from someone else, that might've been a rude way to look at Yusaku's problems, but from Takeru, Yusaku understood he meant no harm. Besides, Takeru _understood_. He knew that. It was just hard to remind himself of that, sometimes.

Unlike Aoi, who was decked out in Knights of Hanoi gear from head to toe, Yusaku wasn't wearing a single piece of merch. He didn't really own anything, besides the shirt Takeru had bought for him a while ago, but it was a bit too cold to wear something like that. Aoi had warned him it would be warm in the venue, but Yusaku was sure his hoodie would be fine. He got cold so easily so often, anyways. Maybe being a bit warm would feel nice.

"Are you guys ready?" Aoi asked, her smile small but full of excitement. For those who knew her, she was practically brimming with it. "I can't wait to see our seats."

They had discussed actual seats versus floor tickets, but very quickly came to the conclusion the floor would probably be a mistake. As a post-hardcore band, they attracted a lot of people who liked to start mosh pits; but more importantly, Yusaku and even Takeru would likely find it a bit too claustrophobic.

That had been fine with Aoi as well, who was short in stature. The seats she'd gotten them, however, would've beaten out the closeness that the floor could've offered any day. Front and center in the very beginning of the actual rows; the only thing separating them and the floor was some height and a railing. It was kind of surreal how close Yusaku would be to Ryoken, he was starting to realize.

"Yeah, let's head in!" Takeru said, bobbing his head. "I'll grab us some water before they start."

* * *

The concert had been absolutely _magical_. Besides the ridiculous euphoria that was seeing his savior in person again, even from so far away in a crowd of far too many other people, the Knights of Hanoi just knew how to put on a damn good show. It wasn't a surprise at all - Yusaku had watched practically every live show of theirs there was ever footage of, but seeing it in person rather than on a screen was still a completely indescribable experience.

Now, though, he was trying to navigate the substantially less crowded hallways in the venue to try and find his way back from the bathroom. Unfortunately for him, this wasn't like a mall or something of the sort, with an easy to find map with a bright red _You Are Here! _sticker plastered somewhere on it. Shaking his head, Yusaku pulled out his phone and hoped for the best. He'd already been gone for 10 minutes, according to the clock on the top of his screen, which was ridiculous.

Speeding up his pace, he kept going down the hallway, hoping for some bright exit sign or _anything_. Panicking was not in the notes for that night, but if he was there any longer, he might just start.

He hadn't _meant _to end up backstage, he had just wanted to use the bathroom after everything had wrapped up, and now he was helplessly lost in the concert venue. He didn't know where he was, or what was the fastest way to get back outside was anymore. The only reason he had pushed through this in the first place to even _be _there was because of Ryoken, and now that the magic was over, he was exhausted and anxious and just wanted to be done.

Sighing, he sped up his pace a little, but soon he was face first with a dark shirt and a hard chest.

"I'm sorry-"

Yusaku froze, whatever he was going to say slipping away as soon as he realized who he had crashed into.

It was incredible, really, how much like the small boy he still looked like. _Ryoken Kogami_, Yusaku had learned his name from the hours of obsessive researching he had done the day he discovered the Knights of Hanoi. His hair was still white, the light purple streaks sticking up at odd angles, complimenting his darker attire. The band was classified as an in-between of alternative punk and post hardcore, and while it wasn't what Yusaku had ever thought he'd be interested in, he had been entranced from the moment he first heard it over Takeru's shitty phone speakers.

Ryoken was not only the lead guitarist, but the main singer. And his _voice -_

It sounded like heaven to Yusaku when he sang. He had watched probably every single interview, seen every music video just to hear him. On the harder nights, when Yusaku was awoken by horrible memories in the middle of the night, he'd just put on a playlist and let that voice lull him back to sleep. Almost like he had when he was younger, but instead of just trying to remember it in his head, it was _real_.

It was, frankly, a little obsessive, but Aoi was just as bad; Yusaku had always justified. She didn't even have the weird emotional attachment as he did, and yet she was just as much as an obsessive fan as he was. Apparently, it wasn't that odd - she'd told him she ran a blog for the band, with plenty of followers each having the same odd obsession. He had, briefly, considered getting one himself, but decided against it soon after.

"Are you okay?" Ryoken asked, and Yusaku blinked, realizing belatedly he had been staring blankly at him the entire time.

"Uh," Yusaku said dumbly, before clearing his throat. "Yeah. Thank you."

_He doesn't remember me, _Yusaku realized, looking away from the older boy. But really, why should he? Who knows if there were other children he comforted during the horrible nightmare. And even besides that, it was ten years ago. Ten long years ago. Ryoken had neither seen him nor heard of him in the last ten years - Yusaku wasn't exactly a noteworthy person to begin with, but he'd made a habit of keeping himself off records to the best of his abilities. Any possible places he might've shown up on websites or anything of the like he'd taken care of with Kusanagi's help.

Turning around to leave, Yusaku did his best to appear normal and _not _devastated by the realization. Before he could even take one step, however, Ryoken grabbed his wrist, halting him in his steps.

"Wait!" Yusaku turned around, eyes wide. "Uh, did you enjoy the concert?"

Ryoken sounded so different than what he'd been expecting in that moment. His normal confidence seemed to be completely gone, and his own eyes blinked owlishly back at Yusaku's. Yusaku wasn't sure how to feel, or what to make of this. Though he sounded different then he had in all the interviews Yusaku had watched, he couldn't deny that he sounded the exact same. The words that he'd been told all those years ago came flooding back to him an in instant.

His wrist even felt hot where Ryoken held it now, the same as when the older boy had led him out of hell.

After a moment passed, Yusaku slowly gave the older boy a rare, wide smile. "I really did," he told him, trying hard to ignore the heat from Ryoken's hand still on his wrist. "Thank you for such an amazing performance."

Slowly, Ryoken released his hold on Yusaku's wrist. Part of him missed the contact as soon as it went away, but he squashed that down to think about later. Right now, he wanted to be 100-percent focused on the boy in front of him.

"Yes, well," Ryoken coughed into his hand, very obviously feeling awkward. "Thank you for coming. Have a nice night." Swiftly, he moved past Yusaku, not once looking back at the other boy.

Yusaku didn't turn around either, refusing to watch him as he walked out of sight. He had thought, coming here tonight, it would be enough to see him perform live; to hear his voice authentically instead of in recordings. After seeing Ryoken in person, though, Yusaku knew full well it was not enough. He wasn't sure if it would ever be enough again.

Subconsciously, he rubbed his wrist where Ryoken had grabbed him. It was odd - he had been so sure that he hadn't recognized him, but now he wondered. His _wait_ had seemed completely unexpected even to himself; and though he was careful not to overanalyze, it had almost sounded like desperation in his voice.

It wasn't worth dwelling on, really, Yusaku knew. It wasn't like he would ever get another chance like this again. It wasn't every day that you coincidentally bumped into a famous rock star, after all.

* * *

"Where did you go?" Aoi asked him as soon as he arrived at the entrance of the parking lot. "We've been waiting here for like twenty minutes. Didn't you see my text?"

She didn't sound peeved - likely still too exhilarated from the concert herself. Yusaku counted his blessings; an irritated Aoi was something he preferred not to deal with.

"Got lost," Yusaku replied simply. "Phone was on silent." He didn't feel like explaining to her exactly what had happened, nor did he really want to. Aoi and Takeru were the closest people he could consider _friends, _but in no way was he close to them.

It was better that way, he told himself often. He and Takeru shared their traumatic experience in the mall that day, but that was the extent of their closeness. It was hard for him to open up to someone so upbeat and positive. And Aoi he was even less close with - they were only friends because she and Takeru were dating.

Plus, Yusaku reasoned to himself, the Knights of Hanoi were Aoi's favorite band, too. If she found out that he had bumped into, quite literally, their lead singer, she would go nuts.

Reaching for his phone in his pocket, he went to go take it off silent, when he realized a problem: his phone was nowhere to be found. Cursing quietly to himself, he dug around into his other pocket, methodically going through all four on his jeans and then the front two on his hoodie before realizing that it really was just _gone_.

"What's up?" Takeru asked, peering over his shoulder. "Everything okay?"

Shaking his head, Yusaku heaved a sigh. "I lost my phone," he said, mildly aggravated with himself. It wasn't as if Kusanagi wouldn't replace it - he _knew _he would - but he didn't want his adoptive older brother to spend even more money they really didn't have on him. "Must've been when I bumped into someone in the halls."

Aoi and Takeru exchanged a look that Yusaku couldn't figure out, but that wasn't anything he wasn't already used to. "Do you want us to help you look for it?" Aoi asked, smiling a bit at him. "It's no trouble, we haven't called the Lyft yet anyways."

Shaking his head again, he pushed his hands as deep as they could go into his hoodie pockets. "No, it's fine," he told her, though he did appreciate the sentiment. "It's no big deal." At least, he didn't want to make it a big deal.

"Are you sure?"

Yusaku wanted to roll his eyes at Takeru. "_Yes_, I'm sure. Stop worrying."

"Alright then," she said, looking back at Takeru who shrugged at her helplessly.

_Who knows_, he thought to himself as Aoi shook her own head and brought out her own phone to grab their ride, he had his name and address on his lock screen, after all. Maybe some kind soul would find it and mail it to him, or something. That would be nice.

* * *

When the doorbell rang the next morning, the last person Yusaku was expecting it to be was _Ryoken Kogami_.

It was still early - much earlier than the other two in the house ever got up, at least - so Yusaku had been the only one around to answer the door. He was still in his pajamas, but he didn't care; the likelihood that it was a salesperson that he'd shoo away was so high that he almost didn't want to answer it. When the doorbell rang a second time, however, Yusaku scowled and forced himself out of his desk and to the front door.

The place he stayed with the Kusanagis wasn't terribly extravagant, which was normally fine. The downside, though, was that there was only one floor - when things were loud in the morning, it had the chance to wake everyone up. Jin wasn't too much of an issue, the poor kid barely spoke most of the time, adjusting even worse than Yusaku had to everyday life after being left alive in the mall.

Shoichi, on the other hand, was extremely grumpy in the mornings. It wasn't unpleasant or anything to deal with for Yusaku, but he liked keeping the older man pacified to the best of his ability. Shoichi worked his ass off to make sure his brother and Yusaku had a home and food on the table every night; he figured it was the least he could do.

So Yusaku threw open the door with vigor, a scowl on his face already. Opening his mouth to prepare to tell whoever it was to _go away_, the words instantly died out as he realized who, exactly, had been ringing the doorbell.

"It's you," Yusaku breathed out, before quickly recollecting himself. A thousand questions ran through his mind, but he settled on the most obvious. "Why are you here?"

_Am I dreaming _also popped into his head, but he pushed that one down at the risk of sounding more like Aoi then himself last night at the concert.

With a smile that Yusaku had dreamt about a thousand times and had seen many more in interviews, Ryoken waggled Yusaku's lost phone in his hand. "It had your address on the lock screen," he said as an explanation, "so I figured I should get it back to you."

Blinking, Yusaku took it gingerly from Ryoken's hand. It seemed ridiculous - he could've easily mailed it out, or had his secretary or, worst case scenario, one of the other band members do it for him. He wasn't just a popular musician, he apparently also owned an inherited business. Though, Yusaku realized, the fact that he knew that might come out the wrong way, so he coughed into his hand instead.

"Thank you, but you didn't have to do that."

Most people, he'd come to realize, were off put by the way he spoke. HIs words were often brisk and monotone, and he didn't say much to begin with. Aoi and Takeru were two of the only people, besides the Kusanagis, that Yusaku knew that could look past that and hold a conversation with him - however one sided said conversations became, they never seemed to mind.

Ryoken, however, didn't even bat an eye at the way he spoke. He did drop his smile, mouth moving into a much more natural line. Yusaku wondered if that was more how he looked normally; if he put on that smile for his fans because it was what they wanted to see. If that were the case, he wondered why he bothered lowering it around him, who was so obviously a fan.

Though, he supposed, not at all a _normal _fan.

"I wanted to," Ryoken said evenly, eyes narrowing just a bit. Though he hadn't said anything about it yet, Yusaku wondered not for the first time since last night if the older boy did, in fact, remember him. It would be nice, he thought, but he wasn't sure how to even go about that conversation, or if he even should. "Would you like to join me for breakfast?"

It was a question, Yusaku knew, but it sounded more like a demand. The thought of saying no hadn't crossed his mind, but he doubted he could - that voice still had such a hold on him, after all these years. He did, however, blink down at his attire. "Can I have a few minutes?"

The corners of Ryoken's lips flicked upwards for a moment, before they fell back into neutral. "Of course," he told him, gesturing back into the house behind Yusaku. "I can wait."

* * *

Slowly, that day was turning into the most surreal Yusaku had ever experienced.

Meeting Ryoken the night before by pure chance had really been something, sure - it wasn't something Yusaku had even bothered to consider before he went out to the concert with Aoi and Takeru that night. Losing his phone had been a major inconvenience, but at least that was more in the realm of normalcy.

Having Ryoken Kogami, front liner for one of the biggest post-hardcore bands in the scene, and the person who had saved his life as a child show up on his front steps and take him out to breakfast, though? _That _was something completely different.

"This is one of my favorite breakfast places in the area," Ryoken said, breaking the not quite uncomfortable silence that had fallen over the two of them.

Looking around him, Yusaku did his best to observe the place. It was small, and quaint - not somewhere he'd ever go on his own, not that he ever really had the extra money to go out to breakfast normally. He'd grabbed his wallet before heading out just in case Ryoken expected him to pay, but then he'd be _really _broke for the next month. Those concert tickets hadn't been cheap, even if Aoi had paid for part of his anyways.

They sat in a small booth, away from windows; which likely meant away from prying eyes. Though the Knights of Hanoi weren't mainstream in the same way performers like Yuya Sakaki or Yuzu Hiragi were, they were still fairly well known, all things considered. And Ryoken wasn't exactly inconspicuous. Yusaku tried hard not to stare at the boy sitting across from him, but it was difficult.

Even if this wasn't the person that he'd been dreaming about for so long, even if he wasn't a musician he loved dearly, Ryoken Kogami was undeniably beautiful. Everything about him just seemed _soft_, despite the harder edge of his jawline and the way his hair jutted out. Even his normal expression, which Yusaku had noticed was more narrowed and less welcoming then he appeared in interviews, seemed somehow soft to him.

It was like sitting across from a model.

Forcing himself to look away in case Ryoken noticed, Yusaku turned back to the menu, trying to decide on the cheapest thing to eat. Unsurprisingly, the place was fairly expensive, which he should've guessed. The cheapest items were obviously the drinks, but somehow, Yusaku felt that Ryoken wouldn't let him get away with just ordering that.

He finally settled on a side meal of scrambled eggs, and put the menu down only to see _Ryoken _doing the staring now. Again, Yusaku wondered if the other boy remembered - ten years was a long time, sure, but that event was heavily discussed in the media, even now. It had started the outlawing of guns in Den City, and was still the greatest loss of life on Den City soil to date.

People didn't just forget living through things like that, he knew. Even Takeru, who was better adjusted then Yusaku or Jin combined, still had his issues because of the incident.

Belatedly, Yusaku realized that he'd never responded to Ryoken's attempt at conversation. Having breakfast with him was certainly proving to be a challenge. "It seems nice," he tried. "I've never been here."

Saying _I rarely go out _seemed like a poor way to continue to conversation, so he left that part to himself. Though he's already memorized the easiest escape routes the moment they'd walked in to wait for a table, Yusaku still shifted in his seat, feeling nervous and awkward. He had managed to get through the concert last night, mostly due to the fact that the Knights of Hanoi's music had always calmed him down since the first day he'd gotten his MP3 player, but that had taken a lot out of him.

Neither of them said anything else, but this time, the silence didn't feel as uncomfortable. It was odd, for Yusaku, to be so comfortable in the presence of another person, but he supposed he should've expected it. Though he hadn't seen Ryoken in a decade, his heart and body still knew this boy. They still knew this boy as safe.

After the waitress came to take their orders - including Yusaku's pitiful excuse for one, with just a glass of milk and a side of scrambled eggs - Yusaku finally decided to ask what he'd wanted to since the night before.

It wasn't something he _really _wanted to say; who wanted to bring up what was known to be the greatest tragedy to ever befall Den City, after all? But not knowing if this person remembered him, even maybe slightly, was bothering him more than he could imagine. Why else, Yusaku was convinced, would Ryoken go out of his way to bring his phone back to him? Why else would Ryoken invite him out for food? Nobody in their right mind would want to sit through a quiet breakfast with a stranger when they could be with their bandmates, or any number of other people.

"Do you remember me?" He blurted out, not even fully decided on _how _he wanted to go about this particular conversation.

Blinking once, twice, Ryoken put the juice he'd been sipping at slowly down before meeting Yusaku's eyes. "Your hair has changed a bit," was all he said, but it was all the answer Yusaku needed.

* * *

The rest of the breakfast passed by in kind of a blur - Yusaku remembers nearly crying, a bit, and Ryoken coming clean that it was, in fact, his father that had committed that horrible atrocity. That was something Yusaku had already known, already come to terms with years ago. It was never stated by any news sites that Kiyoshi Kogami had a son, or that he had been present at the mall when it happened, but Yusaku would've recognized those facial features anywhere.

Ryoken was a much softer version of Kiyoshi, even now, but his was still quite obviously Kiyoshi's son. His theory was further proven when he had first gotten into the Knights of Hanoi. Again, not something that was ever outright stated, but his name said it all. It was something most fans of the band completely ignored, but even Yusaku had seen some angry threads about it here and there.

They were outside in Den City, now, and Yusaku was at a bit of a loss. Where did they go from here? He'd said his part, thanked the boy for his words and his help that had gotten him through so much since then, but now what? Was Ryoken's curiosity about the boy he'd saved satisfied, and now they'd move on, never to speak to each other again? Yusaku wasn't sure he could handle that - not just because of how much Ryoken meant to him, but because he genuinely _liked _the older boy.

They hadn't spoken much, but his calm and quiet demeanor was undeniably pleasant to be around. Besides the added safety factor from his childhood, there was just something nice about being in his presence. Yusaku found he wanted to get to know him better. Know his likes and dislikes, know how he ended up starting a band, why he went for the kind of music he did. There were so many things he wanted to learn that never getting to talk to him again left Yusaku feeling empty.

He was so lost in thought that when his phone buzzed in his pocket, he almost jumped. "Sorry, let me check this," he said, whipping out his phone to throw it on silent. To his surprise, the text message he'd received was from a contact labeled _Ryoken Kogami_, though Yusaku had never once asked for the other boy's contact information.

He opened his phone to check the message in confusion, reading it quickly.

_To: Yusaku Fujiki_

_From: Ryoken Kogami_

_I actually live in Den City, you know_.

It wasn't anything even close to _I want to see you again_, or any of the emotionally charged things Yusaku had been thinking since Ryoken had confessed he did, in fact, remember him, but it was something. It was something tangible, it was an invitation of sorts.

And Yusaku supposed that was good enough for him, right now. He was still lost, if he were being honest with himself. The trauma from that incident still hadn't left him; and though he'd found friends in Takeru and Aoi moving on still felt like a pipe dream that he'd never reach. Meeting Ryoken hadn't solved his problems. It hadn't made him instantly feel better and more at ease with his life, no. It had, however, made him feel something.

_To: Ryoken Kogami_

_From: Yusaku Fujiki_

_What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?_

Next to him, Ryoken smiled a bit - that nice, small uptick of the corners of his mouth. It never seemed to be a full on smile, but it made something in Yusaku's stomach do a flip for whatever reason. It was an odd feeling.

"I suppose," Ryoken said, a teasing tone to his words, "I'll be seeing you. I can meet you by the city park at 5, if that works for you."

Whatever that feeling was… well, Yusaku supposed he had time to decipher it, now.

Smiling brightly in a way that he hadn't done in a long, long time, Yusaku nodded. "I'd like that," he said, wanting to capture the way Ryoken's lips parted and his eyes widened in his mind forever, for some reason. He'd never seen the older boy make that expression before, in all the videos he'd watched. "I'd like that a lot."

* * *

**Notes**

Couple of fun facts for y'all - the title of this fic is from the song _My Understandings _by _Of Mice & Men_. I decided Ryoken played in a post-hardcore band because it was the genre I was most obsessed with as a teenager, lmao, and still enjoy quite a lot. I also might? Make a sequel to this someday? I got to thinking about how much Yusaku's life would change (and _Aoi's reaction oh my god_) once he and Ryoken started officially dating, lmao, so maybe that'll happen. It probably won't be long like this, but we'll see, I'm generally a liar when it comes to word counts. For example, this was supposed to be less than 5k :)

Anyways, thanks for reading my birthday present! See y'all next time.


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